The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1887-04-13


ON, the serene uniformity OF ninowy pam
confirming this impression by deceiying
him as TO the distance he had traversed.
1t was only when he began TO feel hungry
that he looked at his watch and saw that
he had been gone three hours, resting and
walking. Then he began TO retrace his
steps. and then he found that he had alb.
solutely lost his bearings. After two
more hours of wandering he dropped
down exhausted. He had made no pro
gress. He had been wandering round an
round in circle.
1t began to be late IN the afternoon, end
1t began to be bitterly cold. Derby Tea-
Lied his situation intensely. He, for whom
life was SO fair, so sweet, so loyely--he,
young, strong, blessed, before the light of
another day might be lying frozen stiff
on these peaceful, treacherous solitudes,
or else torn limb from limb by wild beasts
His friends, his sister, his mother, his
loye-was all this over for him? "Do
you see thisf-oh Godi' he cried, with
Laertes.
But in spite of growing exhaustion he
kept moving. and thus he came all at
once upon tragedy that had been there
before him. In a little hillock from
which the snow had melted during the
warm sun of the preceding day, all but a
feathery white outline about the promo
figure, lay q man wrapped in an Indians s
blanket. His composed, regularly beau-
tiful features, his dark pallor, might have
belonged to an antique statue. The blan-
ket was huddled about his head; it was
only when Derby pushed it aside that he
became aware that the hair of the
man before him was not that of one of
his own race. And then he recognized
hipi; then he saw that he had found,
thls strangely, the secretary of the
English bishop at Old Point Comfort.
AT first he thought he was dead, but
'he eyelids quivered ever SO slightly pres
emily, as Robert knelt beside tho poor fel-
low and chafed the stony hands in his
impulsiye, warmhearted way. Yes, he
had seen the chap before, of course, at
the Hygeia that time; but what was he
doing in this Indian toggeryl Brissaye
moved feebly, and turaed his head away
from Derby, who was forthwith Impressed
by another association. Where, Besides.
had heseen the curly wool, the back of
that sllapely heod and neck? Still cliafing
Brissaye's hand and presently pouring
down his throat the last few drops of
whisky that remained in his flask, the as
sociation of ideas strengthened and per-
vaded him. This was the black white
man he had noticed in the tepee when he
had searched it for the deserter from the
fort on his return route. There was some
thing in the desperate patience of the face
before him which stirred the very depths
of Roberts nature. Through what great
straits had this poor soul come to this last
strait of all? Slowly Brissaye's molirnful
eyes uncloSed, looked at RoEert and knew
him. 1t was the final blow; he gazed
from right to left, wildly, weakly, like a
hunted creature at bay. you're all
right, . said Robert; encouragingly, be-
ginning to pull off his overcoat to give to
the other. keep up your pluck. I've
strayed off from my party, but they'll
como up with us presently, and look out
fer us both.''
But, as he spoke. the deadly, lonely
stillness was broken by an ominous sound
tho bowling of a wolf. He listened
keenly, realized the voice of the foe, and
met the emergency, I've come to the
end of my rope" he said to himself
TRANQUILITY, as he shouldered his rifle. He
had but threc cartridges left, but he fred
one. Joyi his shot was answered. He
fired again unhesitatingly, and his friends
were close at hand His last discharge
brought them to him before night 8
solemn shadows had closed in on him and
his companion. Robert Derby was not
one of those on whom falls the shadow of
an early doom.
He had dropped on his knees again be-
side Brissaye as soo1 as he was assured
that he was rescued. But Leonce was
far away. Death the comforter, Death
the savior, had come to him, and led him
into the safe and blessed haven that
awaits at last inevitably all weary hearts.
He lay crowned and mantled In the great
final dignity when the party of soldiers
stood about him with exclamations of
pity and surprise. Butno one recognized
him then or afterward as the deserter of
last year from Fort Cameron. That was
his slender compensation and amends.
They carried Brissaye back to the fort.
Something in the pathetic melancholy of
his face moved them to do this, instead
of burying him where they found him.
Robert told Marion the story, and the
girl came softly and shed tear or two as
Leonoe lay in the deep peace of his blessed
release. Some flowers had come to her
by express that day from her lover in the
east. Something moved her to lay all of
these on Brissays's s still breast.-Kather-
inc Read Lockwood in Harper's Bazar.